


4:00 a.m

by unscripted



Category: Epithet Erased (Cartoon)
Genre: And a Hug, Angst, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Projection, Sylvie has a good ol breakdown™, it's project onto sylvie time babie, molly has great timing, no beta readers we die like men, ok maybe a little hurt/comfort, seriously though he needs a nap, someone give him a hug please, this might have some other works added on i dunno, this was written where there was only one season so headcanon warning??
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:00:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27546490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unscripted/pseuds/unscripted
Summary: please only let nice things happen to him.haha, have some shameless projection.
Comments: 13
Kudos: 46





	4:00 a.m

Sylvester was tired. _Really, really, tired._ The clock on his laptop read 4:24 a.m. Normally, around this time he would’ve just given in to the droopiness of his eyes and tried to fall asleep, but tonight he couldn’t. He had so much work he needed to catch up on. Transfers to new psychiatrists, referrals for medications, official diagnoses so that he could refer someone for medications, and rescheduling appointments with some...less than pleased patients. If he even closed his laptop anxiety would start bubbling in his stomach until it exploded over. 

“Ah gee boss, sorry I was out for a while. Ya know, my ribs were just a little fractured. Tell my clients I’ll try hard not to do it again,” he mumbled bitterly as he typed away and copy and pasted several files. Before he had never understood the term “Karen” Molly continuously used when she complained about annoying customers. He thought maybe it was another childish joke he wasn’t up to date with, but after getting chewed out for almost 30 minutes by some woman about her son who “almost died due to his out of control epithet” (he just accidentally summoned a baby chipmunk in class) he knew. He was enlightened to the horrors of insane mothers. His third eye had been opened.

That ontop of his insane workload and still mildly aching ribs did not carry over into his evening well. Golden dust traveled around him and he was vaguely aware of the sheep trotting around his apartment. He was also vaguely aware of how much he had been using his epithet since the museum. Though he wouldn’t admit it. Something about running his fingers through his sheeps wool was oddly comforting. A reminder that he still had it, he still had that piece of his soul.

Sylvester sucked in and let out a shaky breath. The museum, he had purposefully been trying to ignore that because everytime his mind wandered to it he would start blanking. If he blanked for too long his sleep dust would get out of control and he risked accidentally putting himself in a coma. **_Again._**

He silently tried to will himself back into work, that was easier, but the seed was already planted. And seeds grew fast in his brain. His heart was racing as the memories of being held up by the cloth of his hoodie like a sack of worthless potatoes rushed in like a tsunami. The way Mera shoved the amulet into his chest and ripped his epithet out like it meant nothing. Like the years of training meant nothing. _The years of ridicule from his father when he messed up meant nothing._

Sylvester shoved his computer away, trying to ignore the burning in his eyes. “Did I lock the doors..?” He inquired breathlessly to the sheep, letting out a sigh of relief when one of the sheep nodded at him. He hopped up into Sylvie’s lap, dust falling from his pajama bottoms, and nuzzled into his stomach. Sylvester laughed, but it came as more of strangled sob. “I know I should talk about it.. B-but who am I supposed to go to? I don’t wann bug M-Molly and I don’t have other friends.”

The sheep let out an offended bleet. “Sorry, other than you guys and Molly.”

Sylvester sniffled rubbing his eyes. “It just hurt, like a lot. It was like I was already… well dead.” He said, trying to keep his breathing even to no avail. “It wasn’t just powers she took, it was part of my s-soul. And that hurts.” 

He could barely remember anything after that. He remembered hearing Mera slam into the museum walls courtousy of Giovanni. He also remembered feeling almost bad for her. The pains of one’s epithet turning on them was something that he knew all too well. “And I know I’m okay but I.. can’t help but worry y’know. I’m like waiting for her to show up again.” 

Sylvester brought his knees up, lifting up the sheep, and buried his face into the sheep’s warm wool. This scene felt so familiar to him, a scene that happened all to often. He was alone, he was always alone, crying in his living room. This was _pathetic_ , his job was to help people avoid this exact situation. Yet here he was, unable to catch his breath because all the thoughts were just too loud for him too handle. 

Reading his thoughts his friend lightly nudged him.

"Yes, I know, crying is normal. G-good even! But I don’t like doing it,” he admitted, biting his lip to holding in more embarrassing sobs, “it’s humiliating and… my head hurts afterwards.” 

Sylvie laid his head back, closing his eyes and trying to calm his nerves. He was almost calm, not secure for he had never been secure in his life, but nearly calm…

When his phone went off. He jumped, the sheep falling off his lap and disappearing in a poof!, and grabbed his nearby phone. It was Molly. 

_Molly: Sylvie!_

_Molly: I know it’s late but this is urgent,_

_Molly: S o , I’m gonna call you. <3_

Sure enough Molly’s picture flashed across the screen indicating he was getting a phone call. He almost didn’t to answer, out of embarrassment, but what if it was serious. What kind of psychia- friend, would he be if he did that? With shaky hands he answered the phone. 

“Hello?” God, he could tell he sounded awful. His voice was hoarse and much deeper due to his now runny nose. Molly could clearly tell too, her voice came out the other line soft and concerned. “Are you okay? No offense Sylvie but you sound like Boss just hit you with his uh.. Bat with a Knife taped on it™”

Sylvie chuckled the warmth of his phone enveloping his cheek. Immediately following that laugh he was realized the question he had been posed with. Crap, what should he say? He didn’t want to worry her but he’d feel worse lying straight to her face… or voice? Whatever, lying is wrong kids! (Of which he is NOT.) 

“Oh, well… um,’ he stammered pathetically, “yes? I mean I guess no? I-I don’t know I just don’t really..”

"Don’t wanna talk about it?”

Sylvester smiled letting a heavy sigh escape his lips. “Yeah, something like that.” He was grateful that Molly understood without him trying to awkwardly explain it to no avail.

“Okay, you’re off the hook right now since it’s late. Or, I guess early huh?” Molly chuckled to herself causing Sylvie to smile even wider, “Oh! Anyway my emergency! So, you’ve seen Shrek right?”

“Oh, yeah I have actually. One of my patients said that the giant gingerbread man was his “comfort character” and begged me to watch the whole series… the time i dedicated to watching Puss in Boots I will never get back.”

“That movie was a fever dream, but you know what a masterpiece the first two movies are?”

“This feels like a trap..”

The line went silent, he was slightly scared that maybe there were other people on the line waiting to laugh at him for admitted to liking a kid’s movie. But, instead Molly continued, her voice gravely serious. “Boss has never seen a single Shrek movie.”

Sylvester choked on his own breath, certain he had misheard something. “I’m sorry he never WHAT?” He exclaimed, “That is.. the most criminal thing he’s ever done.”

“I know right! I was actually… gonna see when your next day off was? I was kinda hoping we could make him watch it. But, if you’re not up for it that’s totally valid.”

Sylvester thought maybe his heart skipped a beat, not only was he being invited somewhere but something about the validation let him warm and fuzzy inside. He nodded even though Molly couldn’t see him, “I’m free Sunday, I could use the break actually, this Karen cussed me out because I had nearly broken ribs.”

“The pain of essential workers,” Molly laughed, “Ok! I’ll see you Sunday. Oh, and Sylvie?”

“Hmm?”

“You’re super cool, love you!”

Before he could answer Molly hung up. His eyes were watering again but this time he wasn’t scared or angry. Those two words made him realize something, even though he had seen this scene before there was one difference. He wasn’t alone. 

He laid back, closed his eyes, and sleep finally came naturally. With no ball of anxiety.


End file.
